Weekend Adventures

Not a great day.. Yesterday. Real bad to be honest. The stomach-thing I had going on, last Tuesday and Wednesday, struck again yesterday afternoon. I wasn't doing too well before it struck either, so it just made everything 10 times worse than it already was.

Throughout the morning and into the early afternoon, I had dug myself into a hole, for some reason. I wasn't able to get out of it. Maybe I didn't try hard enough or maybe I didn't want to. I was agitated, restless and started feeling claustrophobic. Every person, remark and noise was enough to send me bonkers. I don't know what came over me. I had to get out of the house. On my own. Without anybody. I needed me-time and fresh air. So I put my coat on and went for a walk around the block. I was only gone for 15 minutes. I didn't enjoy it, it was too windy and all I wanted to do was break down and cry, but I couldn't..all the cars passing by would see this person strolling along, balling her eyes out.. I probably looked like death-walking anyhow which wasn't a good thing either. I needed to get indoors, where I could let it all out.

After 15 minutes I went back home again and straight upstairs and that was me..done for the next 3 or 4 hours.. I lost track of time. Because the only thing that was keeping my mind occupied was how disgusting I was feeling, how trapped I was in this house, how alone I was, how much I was wanting and needing to leave this place, how much I hated myself for being here. The pain in my stomach started around the same time and it only got worse. I started vomiting too which brought up a whole load of different stuff. Not literally.. But something happened and I'm not too sure what it was. I felt so rough. I didn't eat until 8 in the evening. I tried to have just some plain toast. But I couldn't keep it down and 10 minutes later I was empty again. I was restless from feeling so sick, but the more I moved the worse I felt. So I went to bed and needed to lie as still as possible to keep my stomach from going mad. So that's where I stayed the rest of the evening.

All I kept thinking about was my breakfast. I couldn't wait for morning to come and for the queasiness to pass. It was so strange but the thoughts of food was making me feel worse but that didn't make me happy at all. It could have been a great excuse for me not to eat, but honestly, I was bumming.. All I wanted was for that feeling to go away so I could eat everything and anything I wanted. My whole day, ruined because I couldn't eat. Then the thoughts of food and the kitchen started to make me feel so angry that all I wanted to do was go downstairs and throw everything edible in the bin. I could see me doing it. The vomiting and the thoughts of food just messed up my head completely, so badly that I didn't know what was going at one stage. By 11 or 12 o'clock it eased off, thankfully.

I had a pretty good sleep too. I let myself have it and gave in to it, as much as I could because that afternoon I was such a mess and had gone through too much **** of which I still don't know the meaning. Looking back on it, I couldn't believe that was me and I knew how much I had put myself through (not that it was my fault or anything) and therefore deserved to rest properly to get over the disastrous afternoon and evening.

This morning I woke up and there weren't any pains. They had gone. There was no more queasy feeling. So I had breakfast and I felt fine. I had lunch and I felt fine. But I didn't have a sweet potato for lunch, like I have nearly everyday. The thoughts of having one, just made me feel sick again. I think the spuds might have had something to do with me having been sick too.. Because, just like Tuesday and Wednesday, the feeling started after I had eaten them. So now.. I'll probably never have another sweet potato for as long as I live. What a shame because I used to enjoy them so much. O well, I'm not too worried about that, because it will just force for to try different things for lunch. It might also force me to have a normal lunch like everybody else.. which is bread. It might help me get over the "fear" of eating too much of it (as it is, I have 1 slice in the morning, but I'm still weary of eating too much stodge). So for lunch today, I had a toasted sandwich with prawns and I felt fine afterwards.

Even though I wasn't feeling sick this morning, I was at all too chirpy. The same feeling of being claustrophobic made me so upset and around noon I was ready to go mad again or go back to bed and cry my eyes out. But I didn't. I had to pick myself up again so I did some Christmas shopping down the town. That got me out of the house. And it was so nice. It wasn't too busy.. a lot of people but it was all very calm for some reason. There were carol singers too, which nearly made me cry. I wasn't too tired and I was able to stick it out for 2 or so. Which is pretty good going.

So, that's another weekend in this adventurous and reckless life of mine. I survived it and haven't yet gone insane. If there's anything I can say about them, it's that I never let them bore me anyhow.